


Nondescript

by anamariewrites



Category: Justice League Unlimited
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-19
Updated: 2010-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-13 19:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anamariewrites/pseuds/anamariewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Huntress and Question are on a stake out and Huntress isn't quite okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nondescript

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Apricot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apricot/gifts).



> Dearest Jess,  
> Would you believe that this was a hard thing to write? I knew next to nothing about Huntress and even less about Question in the beginning, so you can imagine that I wasn't quite sure where to go with this. This is what I wrote when I was pleased with the grasp I had on Huntress or, at least, content. However, not one day before this was to be revealed to you, I had my mind blown in the most pleasant way through a conversation with a dear friend. It was like everything fell into place and I know now that I can do Huntress--a character than I can now admit I admire--more justice. Currently, I am working on another piece and that, too, I would like to dedicate to you upon its completion. Thank you for the prompt and for the kickstart on discovering a character I never imagined I would enjoy this much.
> 
> Now, more importantly, I set this in a slight-AU universe about six months to a year after No Man's Land. I imagined what Huntress would be like if she were still feeling the after effects and ran with it. I also hoped that it would end up being a little bit funny. :P Either way, I hope that you enjoy this, and have a merry, merry Christmas.

Helena slumped in the passenger seat of a nondescript black van, rearranging her hair over her naked face and itching in her unfamiliar civilian clothes; she glanced over at The Question and was wholly unsurprised when he did not acknowledge her as he stared intently through a pair of binoculars through the only open window on the block. 

Huntress huffed and turned away from Question in order to stare out of her own open window at the neighborhood their research and diligence had led them to. The street was filthy and the yards distinctly grass-less in the middle of the summer, abandoned furniture lay on the street curb, newspapers and trash propelled down the street by sudden gusts of hot, acrid wind.

She wrinkled her nose slightly and marveled at the dregs of Gotham, wondered at the hunched figures she could see moving through the developing shadows of dusk. This was the city that Batman protected and Huntress was troubled because of it, stomach roiling with apprehension. She was acting unlike herself, she knew, after the aftermath of the Earthquake--but the Earthquake had changed everyone.

Helena brought her legs up on to the peeling faux-leather seats and crossed her arms over them, tapping her fingers against the side of her thighs and leaning her head against the head rest, looking at Question out of the corner of her eye. 

“This is boring as hell,” Helena said, her voice deep and rasping from disuse, not unwelcome in the heavy silence of the van, but surprising. She poked her tongue out of her mouth to wet her lips and waited for Question to respond, raising an eyebrow in anticipation and wiping away the sweat from her brow.

Question let out a small huff of breath that could have been a sigh and answered her without putting down the binoculars. “I would imagine that hell would be significantly more exciting than this, although I do not have much to go on. There are--”

“You give the most piercing looks,” Question amended, discontinuing his sentence.

“So I’ve heard,” Helena replied, snorting as she dropped her feet back onto the floor, stretching her arms up over her head, causing her shirt to ride up and show a sliver of skin. At the lack of reaction from Question, Helena continued, crossing her arms over her chest, “Any other man would have at least pretended that he was having a hard time of not looking at me, but not you. You sure do have a way of making a girl feel unwanted.” 

Helena’s voice caught slightly on the last word and they both pretended like they did not hear it. Question adjusted the dial on his binoculars and replied without pause.

“That’s not my intention at all, but this case is dependant on us observing our subject and finding out as much about him as possible before we apprehend and question him.”

Helena huffed again, “All I’m sayin’ is that we go on the worst dates ever. We don’t even have any popcorn.”

A gunshot sounded in the distance and neither of them flinched, Helena flicking her eyes away from Question and out of the window, catching the aborted movement of a man on a fire escape, scantily clad, his fingers clenched tight around the railing and ready to run. 

“There’s some in the backseat. Already popped.” Question spoke to Helena in a tone that was akin to gentleness.

Helena paused. “Seriously?” Stiffly reaching over the arm rest, Huntress rummaged through several brown satchels thrown haphazardly across the back seat in their haste to leave the scene of their last disastrous attempt at apprehending their suspect non-violently.

“Of course. You always have popcorn on Friday nights.”

Helena gave a crooked smile.

“You’d better be glad I find it attractive that you go through my trash.”

“Not only    
your    
trash.”

“Don’t ruin it.”

Question huffed a laugh and reached out a hand to pat her leg, an awkward and unexpected motion that caused Helena to stiffen and smooth her skirt more appropriately around her legs from where it had been laying in disarray due to her movement, quirking a little smile up at Question afterwards in a form of apology.

Helena grabbed a small handful of popcorn and placed it in her mouth, turning her head to look back out of the window, thinking.

She had acted like bait, earlier in the day, in a short skirt and heels that her mark had said made her legs look a mile long. Helena had laughed then, a high-pitched giggle she had learned from the whores on the streets of Gotham during her unwanted stay here, leaning up against the brick wall of a run-down pub, shirt hitched up and sultry smile doing nothing to betray the anger that stirred inside of her. It was important for her to remain calm, Question had said in a tone she had heard often from him--both commanding and bewildered at her ire.

And Helena had been angry--one wrong look away from lashing out and grabbing the neck man by his throat and wringing it, stopped short only because there are certain things that even she is not willing to do within Gotham.

The mission, as it were, had been completed. A little flirting and a slip of Helena’s hand later, and she had gotten the information they needed. Soon after that, she was hopping into the van with Question, fists clenched and a wide smirk on her face.

“Say, Q," Helena started, scratching at her brow and waiting on Question's nod before continuing.

"Why don't we just break in?" Helena paused in order to gauge Question's reaction, lifting up her feet to place them on the dashboard. "I can take care of anyone in there," at this Helena cracked her knuckles, before adding, "and you can do your thing. And afterwards, well..." Helena winked saucily.

"Normally, that would be a viable option. However, in this circumstance, we would need to be wary of our subjects connection with--"

"Wait," Helena interrupted, "let me guess, the Beatles was a ploy to undermine the morals of American teenagers."

"Well, yes, but more importantly--"

Helena leaned over and kissed him, settling back in her seat afterwards as she turned to look at the setting sun, hands tangled tightly in the fabric of her skirt.


End file.
